


It's Only Rock 'n Roll (But I Like It)

by KuriNCIS (KuriKoer)



Series: Wake Up Call [16]
Category: C6D - Fandom, Californication, Canadian 6 Degrees, NCIS
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Femdom, First Time, Het, Rock and Roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKoer/pseuds/KuriNCIS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abby meets this guy at a gig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Only Rock 'n Roll (But I Like It)

Abby met him at a gig of some of her favorite bands. He was standing by the speakers, not nodding like the posers or headbanging like the metalheads, just tilting his head a little like he was really listening. She liked that about him. He was a lost little boy, broken heart clear in his eyes, behind the laughter and the lust.

He ended the night cuffed in her coffin, stretched under her as she rode him hard.

("I hate rubbers," he complained.

"I don't really care," she replied, and he twitched encouragingly under her fingers when she slid the condom on him.)

In the morning he went down on her slow and easy and then stopped when his phone rang. And then he disappeared.

("Business, you know how it is," he said, apologetic and almost endearing as he struggled to get back into his jeans.

"No, I don't," she said severely, pissed off and frustrated.

"You're the best, owe you one," he called from the door. She shook her head. Probably not if she can help it.)

But his apology two days later was spectacular.

"It's not that I think you can be bought," he explained, "just that I was a dick, and that's not very nice."

"You were," she said, trying hard not to laugh. He kneeled on the wet asphalt outside her apartment building and extended his hand.

"Milady," he said, and although it came with an easy smile, it didn't sound fake. She let him take her hand and guide her into the horse-drawn hearse. Black lace curtains hid the more glaring of the sunlight inside the carriage.

"It's gorgeous," she said, checking out the elaborate wood carvings. "Victorian?"

"Oh, hell no," he said, shaking his head, "it's a prop."

"Oh." She wasn't sure if she was disappointed.

"But it's a really pretty prop," he ventured. "And I had it flown here, just for you."

Abby was curious. "From where?"

He shrugged. "Back home."

She laughed, surprised. "All the way from the west coast?"

"Everything but the horses," he said. "They don't travel well. Those are local, born-and-bred DC horses."

Abby couldn't help but chuckle, and she heard the driver stifling his own snicker. "Probably not," she said gently. "Born and bred, that is."

He didn't seem to care. In fact, as long as she was smiling, he didn't seem to care about anything much. "There's a coffin in the back," he said and waggled his eyebrows.

Abby slapped his hand as it was trying to squirm its way underneath her skirt. "What kind of a girl do you think I am, Mr. Ashby?" But she was grinning. "I have work to go to!"

There was a whine in his voice, behind the smirk. "But I owe you one! ...two! Three?..."

Abby licked her cherry-red lips. "Tempting," she said and winked. "But no. I really have to get to work."

"Okay," he said, leaning back against the carriage's styled interior. "Where's work?"

It was a testimony to how well her friends knew her that no one in the Navy Yard blinked an eye when she was escorted out of the black, faux-Victorian hearse. Ashby leaned out of the window, the black lace curtain oddly framing his light hair.

"Can I see you tonight?"

Abby felt a lot of good will towards the guy, despite everything. "Maybe. If I'm not working."

"They make you work nights?" He made a face. "Maybe tomorrow then?"

"Maybe," she agreed, stepping away after one last pat on each of the horses' manes.

"Hey," he yelled after her. She turned back. He grinned. "When's your lunch break?"

She liked that he wasn't intimidated by her ballistics lab; in fact, it seemed to have turned him on a little.

She sat up, catching her breath, and pulled her shirt back on. "Debt repaid in full," she announced ceremoniously. He sat up too, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Sciuto," he replied in a similarly formal tone, ruined only by the twinkle in his eyes. Then he patted her thigh. "Okay, maybe not _all_ ," he corrected. She laughed and stood up, letting the skirt fall back into place.

"Where's my underwear?" She narrowed her eyes, looking around. He crawled on the floor until he saw the scrunched piece of fabric under the firearms testing drum.

"Found it," he said, sitting up. She held out her hand, but he ignored it, instead placing the black satin against his face and inhaling deeply, winking at her. "Can I keep it?"

"No," Abby said, but she was laughing. She stepped closer, standing over him, and snatched the panties from his hand. He responded by sticking his head under her skirt again. "Lew!"

"Aw, come on," he wheedled. "You're such a magnificent woman, Abby." And then he changed tactics, coaxing in a different way. He pulled out from under her skirt, looking up seriously. "Be nice to a tourist in your town. Show me around some music. Local bands. Stuff you like."

"Stuff I like," she said thoughtfully, sliding the underwear over her boots and back up her legs. "Okay, this I can do." She pulled him up to his feet. "Do you have the time now?"

"I got nothing on my plate but you," he said with flourish.

He actually sat patiently in the corner while she worked, listening to track after track she played for him on the speakers. He made some comments about some of them, asked her to skip several, and made some notes on a piece of paper every now and again. She liked it. It was a little like working together, but on completely different things.

"Eclectic," he commented.

"I like all kinds of different things." She gave him a radiant smile. "Half of these are friends of mine."

"Yeah?" He grinned. "Good friends? Any of them want to be a superstar?"

She laughed. "And you're gonna make it happen?"

"Yeah," he said, so simply she could almost believe him.

She shrugged and turned back to her computer. "Don't oversell yourself. I like you just the way you are."

There was silence behind her. It lasted for a long moment, and then he turned the music back on.


End file.
